


Fly The Banner High and Proud

by raendown



Series: Requested Works [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and comfort without any real hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 02:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Everyone has bad days. And everyone has that one special person that always makes it better.





	Fly The Banner High and Proud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagnusTesla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnusTesla/gifts).



> A "Requested Work" for MagnusTesla!

On a good day Madara actually liked the weight of his hair out behind him when he walked. Whenever the wind caught it at just the right angle the whole mass lifted to stream behind him like a war banner and he enjoyed knowing what an impressive figure he cut as he strode through the village streets. Today was not a good day, however. Today he was walking downwind and his voluminous hair kept flying in to his face, obscuring his vision, adding unnecessarily to his already foul mood. The more he struggled to push it away the more he looked like a crazy person waving his arms and shouting at the empty air around him.

His stomping footsteps reverberated around the genkan when he finally crashed through the front door of his home, pausing for a moment to claw at his hair. Trying to kick his sandals off with a little too much vigor sent him overbalancing in to the wall and Madara scowled at the beige paint squashed under his face. He’d never liked that color anyway.

“I don’t suppose you brought home that proposal for the budget meeting tomorrow?” a voice drifted down the hall from the living room and Madara jolted upright, scowling even deeper.

“Damn it,” he grumbled under his breath. “I knew I’d forgotten something. I just fucking _knew_ it.”

Tobirama appeared in the hall with his head cocked to one side curious. His eyes drifted down and back up Madara’s body, taking in every detail of his disheveled state, but his only reaction was to hum and nod very slowly. With one hand beckoning in invitation he turned away to disappear back in to the living room.

When Madara stomped his way in to the room he found his husband curled in to one corner of the spacious loveseat and two steaming mugs of tea waiting on the side tables at either end. Every fiber of his body wanted to huff about lazy assholes sitting comfortably at home while other people had to spend hours in the office dealing with idiots one after the other – but even in this state he was able to recognize a peace offering when he saw one. He did make sure to huff loudly before throwing himself down on the vacant cushion and reaching for his tea.

Amazingly, his husband waited for an entire fifteen minutes before saying anything, just enough time for Madara to finish his tea and take a few deep breaths to clear his mind.

“I take it your day was not a pleasant one?” Tobirama guessed in a mild tone. Madara snarled.

“No,” he ground out between his teeth. “It was very much _not_ a pleasant day.”

“Mm. I see. Well then, come here.” Lifting one arm, Tobirama wound it around Madara’s shoulders and very gently guided him to lay down so that his head rested on a pillow of thickly muscled thigh.

Actually it was quite pleasant. Neither of them were much for cuddling outside of the bed, usually, but there was something about resting his head in his partner’s lap after a terrible day that appealed to Madara in that soft gooey part of himself he refused to examine too closely. Rather than think about it he settled his empty mug on the floor and turned on his side to nuzzle against Tobirama’s belly while pale fingers began to gently detangle his hair.

“What was so terrible, then?” his partner asked. Madara snorted with derision so sharp it was practically weaponized.

“Everything! Absolutely everything that could go wrong _did_! Papers misplaced, ink pots spilled, council members insulting each other, missed appointments; even Izuna! He picked the _wrong_ time to start pulling pranks! When I find out what he did with all of my pencils I’m going to stab one of them in to each side of his head!”

“Violent,” Tobirama noted, though there was a marked lack of disapproval in his voice. “Although it sounds as though you could certainly use the stress relief.”

“Hmph! And that’s not even the half of it! Your idiot brother rearranged my office – some bullshit about feng shui – so of course I stubbed my toe no less than three times on the damn filing cabinet. And of course the hinges on the door are beginning to rust so every time someone came in to the office the damn door squealed like a dying pig. And! Some idiot started mopping just after I went in to the Archives! The second I came out I stepped in to a massive puddle and almost went flying down the stairs! I had to catch myself on the head archivist’s desk and I got a splinter.”

Bending his head, Tobirama gravely inspected the finger Madara help up for him. “Quite deep,” he remarked calmly.

“It hurt,” Madara insisted. “A lot.”

“Yes, it looks like it. I suppose you had Hashirama remove it for you.”

“Of course I did. These stupid thick fingers of mine couldn’t get the tiny little shit out.”

Madara moved to pull his arm back down and was foiled by the hand that grasped his wrist to pull it farther up. When he peeked to see what his husband was up he was left gaping, embarrassed by the soft kiss Tobirama granted his wound. As soon as his hand was free he jerked it down and curled up against the man’s abdomen again to hide his face.

After a few moments of silence he twitched when wandering fingers returned to straightening out his hair. It was rather nice, if he were to be honest, having the strands tug lightly against his scalp and feeling the drag of blunt nails between the knots. Had they been in bed he would have asked Tobirama to pull a little harder and see where it might lead but for now he was content to nuzzle the belly in front of him and let his limbs turn to jelly.

He must have fallen asleep eventually because it seemed one moment he closed his eyes and the next he opened them to find the room dark, lit only by a few candles. Clearly neither of them had moved so it must have been a clone that fetched the blanket now draped over him and brewed the warm tea he could hear his husband sipping on. Since Tobirama didn’t seem to have noticed him waking yet Madara closed his eyes and simply allowed himself to bask in the calm atmosphere for a while longer. One of the windows had been opened to allow the sound of cricket song and night birds to drift in, trying to tempt him back to sleep. He resisted but it was a close call.

Eventually he shifted, waiting until he heard Tobirama set his mug down to squirm and kick off the far edge of the couch, pressing himself farther up until his head was tucked just underneath the other man’s chin.

“Welcome back to the world,” Tobirama greeted him, arms draping around his waist to hold him in place. “Feeling any better?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh? I would have thought some sleep would do you well.”

“You haven’t kissed me better yet,” Madara said. Thankfully hiding his face in his husband’s neck meant his embarrassed flush was hidden too.

A deep chuckle reverberated in the small space between them, passing through Tobirama’s chest and in to his own, a physical comfort he would never be able to explain no matter how hard he tried. He allowed himself to be tilted away so Tobirama could peer down at him with a gentle smile. “My apologies, allow me to correct such a grievous oversight.”

He did so immediately. Madara sighed as their lips slotted together because it was _good_. Even after all the years they had been together he’d never quite gotten over his husband’s ability to melt his bones with nothing but a simple kiss. It was a crying shame that Tobirama simply wasn’t big on kissing – he had a weird thing about other people’s breath, never really up for making out unless Madara had just brushed his teeth – but that only made it all the more special that he was setting his own preferences aside for the moment.

Their kisses lingered and deepened and Madara’s sigh had been followed with a light groan by the time Tobirama pulled away, the light of satisfaction dancing in his eyes while he brushed at the hair framing Madara’s face.

“Now do you feel better?” he asked with a hint of smugness.

“Yeah.” Madara couldn’t even find it in him to say anything about it. He had earned the right to be smug, after all. “What time is it?”

“Quite late. It is time for me to take my turn sleeping if you would be so kind as to let me up.”

Grumpy about losing his comfortable perch, Madara huffed and sat up to cross his arms. He watched Tobirama stand and stretch with a mild interest stirring in his belly but it was easily pushed aside in favor of following the man down the hall. Sleeping all day had been nice and all but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to crawl in to bed now that night had fallen. Even if he didn’t sleep any more he had always found lying next to Tobirama to be incredibly relaxing. It was somewhere he felt safe, wanted, and it was easy to forget the woes of the world outside when he could rest his head on a sturdy chest and let the rhythm of Tobirama’s heart beat away his ever-churning thoughts.

So he did just that. It was just another pleasant surprise when he did manage to fall asleep again, rising only when the sun was creeping up over the horizon and feeling more rested than he could remember feeling in the past several months. He was also in a startlingly good mood. Maybe he should have listened to one of Hashirama’s long-winded talks on taking better care of himself; there might actually be something to this whole ‘get more rest and feel better’ crap.

Walking to the tower that morning only improved his mood. The wind was still blowing east, sending his hair billowing out behind him and adding an extra bit of swagger to his walk. Not even Tobirama’s poorly hidden amusement could bring him down. Within the first hour of arriving to work he had located the missing files from yesterday, gone over the budget proposal, made some excellent edits that would sound innocuous yet benefit his department immensely, and slipped in to Tobirama’s office only to be granted another lingering kiss with no fuss and no wrinkled nose.

The budget meeting came and went, the council accepted his proposal, and Madara floated through the rest of the day feeling like he’d won a hundred wars. It was almost as though the universe was making up for the utter shit show that was yesterday.

His favorite part of the day, however, was still the moment when he returned home to find that Tobirama had beaten him there once again and he got to crawl in to his favorite person’s lap for some cuddles that he would never verbally deign to ask for, cuddles he’d gone decades thinking he was fine without. This might just have to get added in to his daily routine, a perfect way to end each day.

And if it encouraged more kisses, better sleep, and a general improvement to his daily mood? That was really just the icing on the top of an already delicious cake. 


End file.
